


The Ash, Fire & Bells

by Quinhwyvar



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 18:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18946381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinhwyvar/pseuds/Quinhwyvar
Summary: Ash and fire. Daenerys Targaryen’s mouth was filled with it as she leaned over Drogon on the crumpled wall of King’s Landing.  If she had noticed, the taste was choking her.King’s Landing looked like a toy, a little miniature from this height, the plaything that she had spent years of her life getting to. On first glance, she had been disappointed. This was King’s Landing?





	The Ash, Fire & Bells

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for myself, trying to explore why Dany might do what she did...terrible writing aside. Enjoy?

Ash and fire. Daenerys Targaryen’s mouth was filled with it as she leaned over Drogon on the crumpled wall of King’s Landing. If she had noticed, the taste was choking her. She held on firmly as Drogon shook himself, muscles rippling under her as he adjusted his grip on the rubble. 

King’s Landing looked like a toy, a little miniature from this height, the plaything that she had spent years of her life getting to. On first glance, she had been disappointed.  _This_  was King’s Landing? These buildings, these neat streets, these tiny porches, the complex but well-ordered castle hovering in the distance? It didn’t look the heart of the country she had traveled across. Now that the scorpions were gone, it was exposed to her. 

They wouldn’t be able to stop her if she tore their perfect little world apart.  

Shaking her head, she leaned further down the dragon’s neck. She didn’t want to. She felt her chest tighten. It was hers once the bells rung.  _Hers._  A crackle caught her attention. Part of the wall fell from where she had burned it. Drogon hissed, swinging his head unsure if it was danger. 

Her men were below her. She could see them like specks in the white streets. The screams drifted up to them. She had instructed them, if the people let them pass, leave them be. These were the followers of Cersei, dying like she would soon, blood washing over the tyrants that had gripped this toy city so hard she had to break it to free it. 

Someone was yelling to ring the bells. 

It couldn’t be true. The breeze brought the smell of carnage and flesh. The fire on the walls was catching further, some of the outside buildings were starting to light. Drogon rumbled under her. It had to be more than this. Sweat stung on her forehead but she wouldn’t brush it off. 

Another person yelled to ring the bells. 

Jorah had died in her arms. She had been the one to feel the last breath leave his body as the world crashed down in that long night. She had been the one to close his eyes against the world. She had been the one to live out of the two of them. Her gloves, her coat, even her face, they had all been stained with the blood of her adviser. He had died for this moment. 

It was a chorus of men now yelling to ring the bells. 

Visersion had slipped under the surface of the ice. Her child sank under the surface without a struggle. The life gone with a cry that had caused tears to come to her eyes before she understood what it meant. The crunch of the ice as the body hit the ground.  

The first bell rang. The sound cutting through her like a weapon. She had won. The Seven Kingdoms were hers. The ash of that kingdom was in her mouth. It was suffocating her. She couldn’t breathe. 

Drogon’s wing moved, crunching the ground. A cry rung out, a man burning to death. She was alone in her victory. No one was cheering. No one was calling out her name. Only the screams of the dying. 

Sansa Stark’s eyes carved into her even though she was sure that the woman was back in Winterfell. Look at what you’ve done, the voice low in her head said, you’ve won a kingdom. There was no joy, only disgust. She had tried for Jon. She had saved his homeland from the crawling undead but it wasn’t enough. Even now that man had given her enemies the greatest weapon against her. 

The burning man’s voice cut off. Missandei hadn’t screamed as she died. On her dragon, she looked around tears coming to her eyes. Only the grey skies greeted her. Grey Worm hadn’t met her eyes afterwards. He looked away not in respect but in grief and anger.  

She had come to his chamber that night to console him on their loss. They would drink to the fallen woman, but she felt like a ghost outside the door. The man inside was crying. She’d touched the door and then left. Her words would not salve the wound. She felt insubstantial. She didn’t know how to turn back death.  

How many times had she turned to talk to Missandei and was reminded she was gone?  

More bells rung out in a fake celebration.  

She stifled a sob. It wasn’t enough. It was too easy. The cost was too high for such a little payment. What had  _they_ suffered? What fire had they felt as they peeled back centuries of wrongs? They hadn’t paid and they hadn’t paid  _enough._  

They didn’t deserve the kingdom that her friends had died for. 

And so Daenerys tore their little world apart.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Did I even get close?


End file.
